Day in and day out, people crave leadership. People crave appreciation for their efforts. Even respect without appreciation leaves one feeling empty. Generally speaking, people in a position of leadership need to do more to inspire people.

Take my father for example. He is the best of the best tool and die makers in the business. He has a respected reputation that extends well past his co-workers and immediate supervisor.

My dad started his career in the mid-1960′s in the nuclear energy industry. Very difficult, close tolerance work with exotic materials. He worked for several other industries, including agriculture, before choosing to finish his career in automotive.

In 1984, he fulfilled his lifelong dream of working for General Motors at the prestigious Technical Center in Warren, Michigan.

My father has seen it all. Done it all. After roughly 40 years in the business, he has nothing left to prove. Yet, he works his magic day in and day out.

There was an extra spring in his step yesterday. When I asked how his day was, he had a big smile and a sparkle in his eyes. He finished a job for an engineer. I am thinking a five-axis CNC machine had to dance for this job.

Not the case. This time.

The engineer, who had nothing to gain politically or monetarily (the two incentives to survive in a big company like GM), sent an email up the chain of command expressing his appreciation and accomodation for my dad’s efforts. For a job he could do with his eyes closed.

The engineer had nothing to gain, but gained everything. The email, that little thing, meant alot to my father. Hell, it even made me proud. An ounce of gratitude goes a long way. Believe me.

Speaking of gratitude. I got into this business because of my father. Not because it was the family business. Not because tool and die is in our blood. And certainly not because he had the right connections to get a young kid like me started in a skilled trade. No. I got started in this business because my father inspired me.

When I was four or five years old, my father would do his drafting homework for his apprenticeship classes on the kitchen table. He had a small drafting board propped up on a cigar box. He had his T-square, triangles, and pencils all there.

My mother would try to keep us kids quiet and out of the kitchen while he did his homework after working hard all day. That is what moms are for.

I was always curious as to what he was doing, so I would sneak away, quietly open the kitchen doors, and just stand there. Watching. Quietly and in awe.

I would just watch him draw. Perfect linework. I was fascinated that a mechanical device could come to life from a blank sheet of paper. He made it look easy. And I would just watch.

And it was for only a few precious minutes before mom would discover the door open and get me out of there. But those few minutes was all I needed to know what I was going to do when I grew up.

Like the email from the engineer, it was the little things like this that made all the difference.

That classic Jerry Reed song from the Smoky and the Bandit songtrack sums up where the Motor City and its legendary tool and die industry is heading these days.

After having a front row seat to the “Not Invented Here” syndrome for so long, I am optimistic that the time is now for new ideas from entrepreneurs.

There is a well-written article in the June 2009 issue of Wired magazine titled “Beyond Detroit”. This article speaks about how the Detroit Three must embrace innovation from startups in order to survive beyond the government loans and bankruptcy restructuring.

I have been waiting two decades for this. I see a stronger, consumer-centric American automotive industry emerging from the current state of disaster. But only if the Detroit Three leadership embraces outside ideas and technologies.

I have been an outside insider for a long time waiting for a shot. That time is now. This cowboy will put the hammer down and give it hell.